can you wrap your arms around me
by Fancy Piece of Work
Summary: Two parts of the Non-Judging Breakfast Club were huggers. The other two really weren't, except with each other where they kind of were. Sweet, mentions of vague Chuck/Blair


Chuck Bass hasn't hugged many people in his life. He's not a hugger, because there was never anybody there to hug him.

His father had proudly put a hand on his shoulder once, and it was the most physical their relationship had ever gotten (at least the most physical in a _good_ way, because his father had a mean right hook sometimes and for a long time at least Chuck knew he cared enough to touch him at all).

He was happy with that. Content.

But after a while that slowly changes.

Nate gave him what he thought was a hug once, one of those bro's-over-ho's things that all boys do. Then as they became closer those turning into actual hugs, filled with _support_ and for a while he thought that was all he was going to get and he wasn't that bothered by it. His best friend could hug him, he'd take it what he could.

Then Serena starts hugging him, and Serena's hugs were a tangle of long sun kissed limbs and mouthfuls of golden hair. They left you breathless and _happy_, and with a feeling that everything would be _fine_. Serena hugged everybody, even somebody like him, with all his darkness. It's like she forgives him for all his bad thoughts and wrongdoings.

Then her arms are gone and he realises everybody probably feels this way when she hugs them. All warm and surrounded by sunshine, but filled with a sudden _loss_. And he's content she sees him like all those other people, even when he's not.

It takes a while, one limo, a few fights and a lot of matching outfits later, but when Blair hugs him it all changes.

Blair's hugs were soft and sweet (not clinging or choking and there's no hair in his mouth and she doesn't smell like pot), and while comforting, they're nothing like Serena's or Nate's.

They're _better_.

So, so much better.

They don't tell you everything is going to be fine, but they _do_ tell you that _whatever_ happens, all those bad thoughts, _terrible_ thoughts and words and actions, she'll be there, holding your hand, giving out hugs, because she _loves_ you, every part of you, but she only gives those hugs to the lucky few. Only to those who've scaled the walls and settled themselves into her heart.

Her hugs tell him she understands that darkness, doesn't need to _forgive_ it or offer support over the fact, because she has it too. Her hugs tell him he's safe, he's _home_.

Because Nate hugs everybody, so does Serena. It's part of their _light_. They're both selfish, like all people having grown up in the Upper East Side are, but they're both _good_ people, wanting to be more, so they take bits of everybody around them, weave themselves into their lives and shine their light onto them.

With Blair, it's so different. He doesn't have to feel like everybody else, doesn't have to be content with that. He knows he's _important_.

Because Blair Waldorf isn't a hugger. Hasn't had many people in her life she _wants_ to hug (air-kisses and linked arms are nothing to her), and when Chuck becomes one of those people, the precious few, he cherishes it in a way that's dark and secret and in hiding from the rest of the world, and he knows only _Blair_ really gets how incredibly _important_ it is.

She hugs him often.

Because Nate and Serena were huggers, had always been. And Chuck knows he and Blair had always been there, watching the effects of those hugs, sometimes wanting them, often getting them, and always left breathless but a little empty without them, until they found out how _good_ it felt to hug each other.

The feeling _lasts_.

The _feelings_ last.

And he doesn't have to wait until the next one, doesn't have to hold his breath and pray for another like he does with the other members of the Non-Judging Breakfast Club, doesn't have to worry about them suddenly stopping, because he _knows_ he's going to get it. Get many, many more.

Because neither of them are huggers.

Except when they're together they kind of are.


End file.
